the new machiavelli-第36节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



croquet　were　intermittently　visible　and　audible　beyond　a　bank　of　

rockwork　rich　with　the　spikes　and　cups　and　bells　of　high　spring。



Mrs。　　Seddon　presided　at　the　tea　urn；　and　Margaret　partly　assisted　

and　partly　talked　to　me　and　my　cousin　SibylGertrude　had　found　a　

disused　and　faded　initial　and　was　partnering　him　at　tennis　in　a　

state　of　gentle　revivalwhile　their　mother　exercised　a　divided　

chaperonage　from　a　seat　near　Mrs。　Seddon。　　The　little　curate；　

stirring　a　partially　empty　cup　of　tea；　mingled　with　our　party；　and　

preluded；　I　remember；　every　observation　he　made　by　a　vigorous　

resumption　of　stirring。



We　talked　of　Cambridge；　and　Margaret　kept　us　to　it。　　The　curate　was　

a　Selwyn　man　and　had　taken　a　pass　degree　in　theology；　but　Margaret　

had　come　to　Gaylord's　lecturers　in　Trinity　for　a　term　before　her　

breakdown；　and　understood　these　differences。　　She　had　the　eagerness　

of　an　exile　to　hear　the　old　familiar　names　of　places　and　

personalities。　　We　capped　familiar　anecdotes　and　were　enthusiastic　

about　Kings'　Chapel　and　the　Backs；　and　the　curate；　addressing　

himself　more　particularly　to　Sibyl；　told　a　long　confused　story　

illustrative　of　his　disposition　to　reckless　devilry　（of　a　pure…

minded　kindly　sort）　about　upsetting　two　canoes　quite　needlessly　on　

the　way　to　Grantchester。



I　can　still　see　Margaret　as　I　saw　her　that　afternoon；　see　her　fresh　

fair　face；　with　the　little　obliquity　of　the　upper　lip；　and　her　brow　

always　slightly　knitted；　and　her　manner　as　of　one　breathlessly　shy　

but　determined。　　She　had　rather　open　blue　eyes；　and　she　spoke　in　an　

even　musical　voice　with　the　gentlest　of　stresses　and　the　ghost　of　a　

lisp。　　And　it　was　true；　she　gathered；　that　Cambridge　still　existed。　　

〃I　went　to　Grantchester；〃　she　said；　〃last　year；　and　had　tea　under　

the　apple…blossom。　　I　didn't　think　then　I　should　have　to　come　down。〃　　

（It　was　that　started　the　curate　upon　his　anecdote。）



〃I've　seen　a　lot　of　pictures；　and　learnt　a　lot　about　themat　the　

Pitti　and　the　Brera；the　Brera　is　wonderfulwonderful　places；but　

it　isn't　like　real　study；〃　she　was　saying　presently。　。　。　。　　〃We　

bought　bales　of　photographs；〃　she　said。



I　thought　the　bales　a　little　out　of　keeping。



But　fair…haired　and　quite　simply　and　yet　graciously　and　fancifully　

dressed；　talking　of　art　and　beautiful　things　and　a　beautiful　land；　

and　with　so　much　manifest　regret　for　learning　denied；　she　seemed　a　

different　kind　of　being　altogether　from　my　smart；　hard；　high…

coloured；　black…haired　and　resolutely　hatted　cousin；　she　seemed　

translucent　beside　Gertrude。　　Even　the　little　twist　and　droop　of　her　

slender　body　was　a　grace　to　me。



I　liked　her　from　the　moment　I　saw　her；　and　set　myself　to　interest　

and　please　her　as　well　as　I　knew　how。



We　recalled　a　case　of　ragging　that　had　rustled　the　shrubs　of　

Newnham；　and　then　Chris　Robinson's　visithe　had　given　a　talk　to　

Bennett　Hall　alsoand　our　impression　of　him。




〃He　disappointed　me；　too；〃　said　Margaret。



I　was　moved　to　tell　Margaret　something　of　my　own　views　in　the　matter　

of　social　progress；　and　she　listenedoh！　with　a　kind　of　urged　

attention；　and　her　brow　a　little　more　knitted；　very　earnestly。　　The　

little　curate　desisted　from　the　appendices　and　refuse　heaps　and　

general　debris　of　his　story；　and　made　himself　look　very　alert　and　

intelligent。



〃We　did　a　lot　of　that　when　I　was　up　in　the　eighties；〃　he　said。　　〃I'm　

glad　Imperialism　hasn't　swamped　you　fellows　altogether。〃



Gertrude；　looking　bright　and　confident；　came　to　join　our　talk　from　

the　shrubbery；　the　initial；　a　little　flushed　and　evidently　in　a　

state　of　refreshed　relationship；　came　with　her；　and　a　cheerful　lady　

in　pink　and　more　particularly　distinguished　by　a　pink　bonnet　joined　

our　little　group。　　Gertrude　had　been　sipping　admiration　and　was　not　

disposed　to　play　a　passive　part　in　the　talk。



〃Socialism！〃　she　cried；　catching　the　word。　　〃It's　well　Pa　isn't　

here。　　He　has　Fits　when　people　talk　of　socialism。　　Fits！〃



The　initial　laughed　in　a　general　kind　of　way。



The　curate　said　there　was　socialism　AND　socialism；　and　looked　at　

Margaret　to　gauge　whether　he　had　been　too　bold　in　this　utterance。　　

But　she　was　all；　he　perceived；　for　broad…mindness；　and　he　stirred　

himself　（and　incidentally　his　tea）　to　still　more　liberality　of　

expression。　　He　said　the　state　of　the　poor　was　appalling；　simply　

appalling；　that　there　were　times　when　he　wanted　to　shatter　the　whole　

system；　〃only；〃　he　said；　turning　to　me　appealingly；　〃What　have　we　

got　to　put　in　its　place？〃



〃The　thing　that　exists　is　always　the　more　evident　alternative；〃　I　

said。



The　little　curate　looked　at　it　for　a　moment。　　〃Precisely；〃　he　said　

explosively；　and　turned　stirring　and　with　his　head　a　little　on　one　

side；　to　hear　what　Margaret　was　saying。



Margaret　was　saying；　with　a　swift　blush　and　an　effect　of　daring；　

that　she　had　no　doubt　she　was　a　socialist。



〃And　wearing　a　gold　chain！〃　said　Gertrude；　〃And　drinking　out　of　

eggshell！　　I　like　that！〃



I　came　to　Margaret's　rescue。　　〃It　doesn't　follow　that　because　one's　

a　socialist　one　ought　to　dress　in　sackcloth　and　ashes。〃



The　initial　coloured　deeply；　and　having　secured　my　attention　by　

prodding　me　slightly　with　the　wrist　of　the　hand　that　held　his　

teacup；　cleared　his　throat　and　suggested　that　〃one　ought　to　be　

consistent。〃



I　perceived　we　were　embarked　upon　a　discussion　of　the　elements。　　We　

began　an　interesting　little　wrangle　one　of　those　crude　discussions　

of　general　ideas　that　are　dear　to　the　heart　of　youth。　　I　and　

Margaret　supported　one　another　as　socialists；　Gertrude　and　Sybil　and　

the　initial　maintained　an　anti…socialist　position；　the　curate　

attempted　a　cross…bench　position　with　an　air　of　intending　to　come　

down　upon　us　presently　with　a　casting　vote。　　He　reminded　us　of　a　

number　of　useful　principles　too　often　overlooked　in　argument；　that　

in　a　big　question　like　this　there　was　much　to　be　said　on　both　sides；　

that　if　every　one　did　his　or　her　duty　to　every　one　about　them　there　

would　be　no　difficulty　with　social　problems　at　all；　that　over　and　

above　all　enactments　we　needed　moral　changes　in　people　themselves。　　

My　cousin　Gertrude　was　a　difficult　controversialist　to　manage；　being　

unconscious　of　inconsistency　in　statement　and　absolutely　impervious　

to　reply。　　Her　standpoint　was　essentially　materialistic；　she　didn't　

see　why　she　shouldn't　have　a　good　time　because　other　people　didn't；　

they　would　have　a　good　time；　she　was　sure；　if　she　didn't。　　She　said　

that　if　we　did　give　up　everything　we　had　to　other　people；　they　

wouldn't　very　likely　know　what　to　do　with　it。　　She　asked　if　we　were　

so　fond　of　work…people；　why　we　didn't　go　and　live　among　them；　and　

expressed　the　inflexible　persuasion　that　if　we　HAD　socialism；　

everything　would　be　just　the　same　again　in　ten　years'　time。　　She　

also　threw　upon　us　the　imputation　of　ingratitude　for　a　beautiful　

world　by　saying　that　so　far　as　she　was　concerned　she　didn't　want　to　

upset　everything。　　She　was　contented　with　things　as　they　were；　thank　

you。



The　discussion　led　in　some　way　that　I　don't　in　the　least　recall　now；　

and　possibly　by　abrupt　transitions；　to　a　croquet　foursome　in　which　

Margaret　involved　the　curate　without　involving　herself；　and　then　

stood　beside　me　on　the　edge　of　the　lawn　while　the　others　played。　　We　

watched　silently　for　a　moment。



〃I　HATE　that　sort　of　view；〃　she　said　suddenly　in　a　confidential　

undertone；　with　her　delicate　pink　flush　returning。



〃It's　want　of　imagination；〃　I　said。



〃To　think　we　are　just　to　enjoy　ourselves；〃　she　went　on；　〃just　to　go　

on　dressing　and　playing　and　having　meals　and　spending　money！〃　　She　

seemed　to　be　referring　not　simply　to　my　cousins；　but　to　the　whole　

world　of　industry　and　property　about　us。　　〃But　what　is　one　to　do？〃　

she　asked。　　〃I　do　wish　I　had　not　had　to　come　down。　　It's　all　so　

pointless　here。　　There　seems　to　be　nothing　going　forward；　no　ideas；　

no　dreams。　　No　one　here　seems　to　feel　quite　what　I　feel；　the　sort　of　

need　there　is　for　MEANING　in　things。　　I　hate　things　without　

meaning。〃



〃Don't　you　dolocal　work？〃



〃I　suppose　I　shall。　　I　suppose　I　must　find　something。　　Do　you　think

if　one　were　to　attempt　some　sort　of　propaganda？〃



〃Could　you？〃　I　began　a　little　doubtfully。



〃I　suppose　I　couldn't；〃　she　answered；　after　a　thoughtful　moment。　　〃I　

suppose　it　would　come　to　nothing。　　And　yet　I　feel　there　is　so　much　

to　be　done　for　the　world；　so　much　one　ought　to　be　doing。　。　。　。　　I　

want　to　do　something　for　the　world。〃



I　can　see　her　now　as　she　stood　there　with　her　brows　nearly　frowning；　

her　blue　eyes　looking　before　her；　her　mouth　almost　petulant。　　〃One　

feels　that　there　are　so　many　things　going　onout　of　one's　reach；〃　

she　said。



I　went　back　in　the　motor…car　with　my　mind　full　of　her；　the　quality　

of　delicate　discontent；　the　suggestion　of　exile。　　Even　a　kind　of　

weakness　in　her　was　sympathetic。　　She　told　tremendous